PR/N: *Barburella hijacks* - I'd like to get the attention of the readers. Once you've read the awesome that is this fic (it's going to be awesome, trust!), you can come back and thank me. I mean, PFach? Come ON! I could read Carlisle slash for the rest of my life. And I love, love, LOVE Kris for going out of her comfort zone (and believe me, I'm getting heat for this little "excursion") for me. In her words: BIG. PUFFY. HEARTS.

A/N: GREAT. Now there's all this PRESSURE to be awesome.


Carlisle thought if he heard his name one more time today, he might well go insane.

Actually, he wouldn't mind hearing his own name. It was this 'Dr. Cullen' person everyone seemed to want the attention of. Today was a never ending, exhausting day of people calling for him, needing things from him, wanting him to do things. As it was, his beloved house mate had kept him up until all hours of the night with obnoxiously loud music.

Ever since their first fight, Jasper was trying his damnedest to tempt Carlisle's temper back into the open. He was alarmingly good at breaking Carlisle's practiced calm. This was saying something. As a doctor, the older man had come up against every type of belligerent patient there was. He'd been screamed at, cursed, assaulted, scratched, bitten, kicked, and everything in between. Through all that, he'd kept his bedside manner and never treated a patient with anything but compassion.

But Jasper was working his last nerve with words alone.

Well. Mostly words.

Jasper was playing some other game Carlisle couldn't quite wrap his head around.

Whatever it was, it was unsettling.

Carlisle's pen paused above his paperwork, his train of thought interrupted as he remembered the night before.

As a doctor, Carlisle was well aware just how bad sugar-coated cereal was for the body. It was the worst kind of breakfast food imaginable. Which was why he never had it... for breakfast.

He had a penchant for Cocoa Pebbles he'd never been able to shake. He put the box on top of the refrigerator both making it more difficult to get to and keeping it out of sight. But every once in a while, he succumbed to the need for chocolaty rice crispies that crunched oh so pleasantly in his mouth.

He had to stand on his tip toes to get to the box, straining, his every muscle taut as he stretched.

Just as his fingertips touched the box he was startled as a warm hand pressed full against his back, against his bare skin. He was sure he'd been alone just a few seconds before, but now Jasper was definitely there, leaning into the refrigerator with his hand firm against Carlisle's back.

For the long seconds Jasper searched through the fridge, Carlisle was frozen. Just what was he supposed to do? His cheeks felt heated with embarrassment, but why?

Finding what he was looking for, Jasper backed up. When his hand lifted from Carlisle's back, the older man felt a definite sense of relief, his heart beginning to beat again. And yet, at the same time, there was a part of him that panged when the young man's touch was gone.

Cocoa Pebbles all but forgotten, Carlisle turned around slowly.

Jasper was leaning against the counter, drinking orange juice straight from the bottle - a habit he knew damn well Carlisle hated. It was unsettling the way his eyes lingered on Carlisle over the container, the expression in them cocky and something else.

Something incendiary.

Carlisle suddenly felt very aware of his own skin. It was tingling, chilled across the surface but hot underneath.

It was unsettling. He was unsettled.

And he'd been staring at Jasper for entirely too long.

At the man's chest, the way his neck arched and his adam's apple bobbed as he drank.

Jasper set the orange juice down and chuffed, his eyes never leaving Carlisle's. "Perv," he muttered, the word low and his tone scathing.

Carlisle blinked, feeling both guilty and irritated. He nodded - a short jerk of his head. "Good night, Jasper," he said formally before he turned on his heel and headed back to his room.

The shrill ring of his office phone made Carlisle jump, dropping his pen. He looked around his quickly, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling guilty. His cheeks were hot with embarrassment.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice unsteady as he tried to gain his bearings again.

He was greeted by a mechanical voice asking if he would accept charges for a phone call from none other than Jasper Whitlock. Carlisle felt dread curl in the pit of his stomach.

What had the boy done now?

"Jasper, what's going on?" he demanded.

"Well, I seem to be in a bit of trouble with the law," he drawled in his 'I'm so bored by this' tone. "So if you'll just come on down to the jail, and-"

"What did you do?"

"Hey, Daddy Warbucks, it's not like they give me a lot of time here. Come down here, wave your money around, and I'm sure there'll be plenty of time to talk about why they dragged me off in the first place."

The annoyance in Jasper's tone instantly sparked Carlisle's irritation. He should be begging and groveling, not demanding. "I'm busy, Jasper. I can't just abandon my responsibilities and come running because you've gotten yourself in trouble."

There was a pause, and he heard Jasper scoff.

"Listen, don't be a prick. Or do you think Mom would appreciate you leaving me here to rot? A lot of these guys look like they'd enjoy a game of grab ass."

A different kind of guilt made Carlisle hang his head.

No, no matter what kind of trouble her son was in, Esme would have been there in a heartbeat.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Carlisle promised, his tone more gentle.

He hung up the phone, vacillating between worry and irritation. Jasper was a pain in the ass, but he'd never been such a delinquent he'd ended up in jail. Yes, there had been a fist fight his Senior year of high school, but other than that, nothing more serious than the usual teenage rebelliousness: sneaking out, staying up too late, underage drinking.

But even as he sat still a moment, gathering his thoughts, Carlisle felt a great deal of annoyance at Jasper's droll tone and sense of entitlement.

It was utterly infuriating how-

Carlisle's pager went off. He was on his feet before he had another thought, already pacing down the hallway even as he looked at the message. His heart twisted when he saw it was a child being brought in. A girl, approximately three years old.

Carlisle hesitated, torn between his own family emergency, and whatever emergency had fallen this little girl. There were other doctors on duty after all, and-

"Dr. Cullen! We need you now!"

His choice made for him, Carlisle ran for the emergency room. The nurse who'd come to retrieve him ran at his side, filling him in.

The child was suffering severe trauma after a car accident that killed the driver of the vehicle. The staff was calling her Baby Jane as they had yet to identify her or the dead driver. She was bad off, crashing quickly. There was a never ending litany of things wrong with the poor girl.

Reaching their destination, Carlisle stopped short, all the breath leaving his body.

Though her face was grotesquely cut up and swollen, Carlisle would know her anywhere. Her normally wavy bronze hair was absolutely matted with dark, thick blood.

"Her name is Samantha Rae Cullen. She's two and a half years old. She has a nut allergy and is also allergic to penicillin." His voice cracked toward the end.

"Dr. Cullen?"

"She's my niece."

He tried to get to her, needing to help her, already calling out orders, but was stopped with Dr. Snow's hand to his chest. "Move!" he commanded, but the other man stood fast.

"You can't, Dr. Cullen. You know you can't."

"She's dying. You have to let me help!"

"Doctor. Carlisle! You have to get out of the way so we can help her, okay?" Dr. Snow held his eyes, not letting Carlisle look away. He took a deep breath, his expression sympathetic. "Maybe you need to find out who was driving the car."

Carlisle's knees buckled, and he went down with an audible cry of despair.

The driver of the car was dead, he remembered.

"Carlisle?" One of the nurses - Nurse Cope - had her arms around his shoulders. "Come on, honey. Let's get you out of here, okay?"

His legs were shaking but he let her pull him up. "My brother..."

"Let's not assume yet," she said gently. "Come on, now. Let me help you call someone. We'll figure this out."

~0~

The driver of the car was named Jacob Black.

It was a fluke, as far as Carlisle understood.

Samantha had been with her grandfather in Forks for the weekend. Charlie Swan got wrapped up in a project with his best friend, Billy Black. Billy's son, who had to go back to Seattle anyway, offered to drive the little girl home.

God help him, when Carlisle learned it wasn't Edward or Bella driving the car, he'd been giddy with relief.

Of course, that left it to him to call them.

It was the hardest conversation he'd ever had. It was more difficult than he could have imagined, being on this side of the wall rather than behind the scenes, striving to make it better.

He hated being the one to destroy Edward and Bella's world with a few simple sentences. "There's been an accident. It's Samantha." His voice cracked, images of his sweet niece's face - chubby and unmarred - filling his mind. "It's bad. Please hurry."

He'd sobbed into his hands then, knowing just how slim the girl's chances were. Knowing he needed to be strong when his brother and sister-in-law arrived, he let himself have his moment of weakness while they were still en route.

When they arrived, both of them frantic, of course, Carlisle was calm and steady again.

The baby was in surgery. It could be hours before they knew anything. There was a lot of damage.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he murmured to the grieving couple, his hands on their arms. "All we can do right now is wait."

~0~

It was the small hours of the morning before Samantha was settled in the ICU. She was clinging to life, but only barely. It was macabre, the way she looked. Her head was bandaged, what little skin was showing mottled black and blue. She was hooked to a breathing tube as she couldn't breathe on her own.

And she was comatose.

The swelling in her head was bad. Even if she did survive, it was currently impossible to tell if there would be any lingering damage.

It was just after dawn when Shelly Cope approached him, having just come back on duty. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Dr. Cullen, but your stepson called?"

Growling, Carlisle rubbed the back of his neck.

The woman looked sympathetic. "Murphy sure was right about that law of his, wasn't he?"

Carlisle just chuffed.

"There's nothing more you can do for them at the moment," the woman soothed. "Why don't you take care of your business, get a little sleep, and come back refreshed?"

Looking down the hallway to his niece's room, Carlisle waffled.

Frankly, he didn't give a damn about Jasper and whatever petty nonsense he'd gotten into. He wanted to be here for Edward and Bella. They needed him.

But in reality, they'd barely acknowledged anyone's presence since they'd finally been allowed to see their daughter. They were so focused, they probably wouldn't even notice if he was gone.

And the more he thought about it, the more guilty he became, imagining Esme's worried face in his mind.

He'd been feeling so helpless, completely unable to make his niece better or to comfort her devastated parents, it might do him good to actually accomplish something for someone.

So, for Esme, Carlisle snuck back into the ICU. He found a place on Samantha's arm that wasn't covered with bandages or bruises and did his best to convey his love and support to the unconscious little girl. He kissed Bella's cheek, tasting the salt of her tears, and squeezed Edward's shoulders. Neither responded more than a distracted nod when he told them he would be back as soon as he could. They kept their eyes intent on their little girl, watching each of her measured, mechanized breaths.

It broke his heart.

~0~

Jasper had kept up a steady stream of complaints since they'd left the jail.

Carlisle was pissed. He was beyond livid.

He'd tried, initially, to explain where he'd been, but Jasper wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. It was just as well. It would only serve to stoke his anger when the younger man didn't give a damn about his little niece, which Carlisle was sure would be the case.

So on the drive home, he kept his lips pressed into a thin line, trying not to gnash his teeth and failing.

If he opened his mouth, he wasn't going to stop yelling for a long time.

Actually, he didn't trust himself not to fly entirely off the handle.

It was somewhat ironic given that Jasper had been arrested on charges of aggravated assault, that Carlisle found himself considering the exact same crime.

It was just too much. Jasper bitched about being left in jail, bored out of his mind, on Carlisle's whim. Carlisle would have given anything to be stuck where Jasper was rather than having to sit hour upon hour in the waiting room, helpless as his colleagues tried to stitch Samantha back together again. He'd have given anything not to have been where he was, watching Edward and Bella nearly fall apart with grief and worry.

Now, away from the hospital where he had to keep calm, be strong for his brother and Bella, rage was quickly overtaking Carlisle.

When Samantha was born, Edward had nearly lost them both: his wife and child. They'd all been through so much, and it was happening all over again.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

His niece who'd overcome the trauma of her birth to be a beautiful, vibrant child was laying slack and unresponsive - a tiny form in a huge ICU bed.

It wasn't fair.

And yet this boy, this man who should have known better, was babbling about what, in reality, was a ridiculously minor inconvenience. He'd been in jail, but not in danger, after all. What he'd done was no one's fault but his own in any case.

"Hey!" Jasper said, shoving Carlisle shoulder hard as they entered the house. "I'm talking at you."

Fury flared, and Carlisle clenched his fists at his side. "Don't touch me," he said evenly. "Don't even speak to me."

Carlisle was running on fumes and anxiety. He could feel a break coming. He hurried into the house. If he could only get to his room-

"No, I want to know what kind of game you thought you were playing," Jasper demanded, grabbing Carlisle's shoulder and yanking him back.

"I don't. Want. To talk. To you," Carlisle seethed. His blood was boiling. He could feel a tempest looming and he was so close to being unable to stop it. His muscles were coiled, tensed to spring.

There was something feral growing in him. Predatory.

"Too fucking bad. This is my house-"

"This is my house!" Carlisle spat, turning to face the other man.

"This was my mother's house," Jasper snarled. "Fucking her had some consequences, didn't it? Now she's gone and you're stuck with me. You should have thought of that before. After all, you could have gotten your pussy anywhere el-"

All rational thought left Carlisle's mind. He rushed forward, catching Jasper with an arm across his chest as he pushed him back. They were both jolted when he hit the wall, but Carlisle didn't let him up.

Jasper's features were twisted with an angry ferocity. In any other moment, Carlisle might have been afraid, but not now.

No, he wasn't scared at all.

Since he'd learned to let go of his anger, Carlisle had always tried his best to remember he didn't have to be at the top of the food chain - the most fierce being in the room. There was some power to showing vulnerability, to letting others lead.

Not today. Not right now.

Right now, he wanted to crush, he wanted to dominate.

He wanted to wipe that infuriating sneer off Jasper's face.

He wanted to prove to the man once and for all he could be bowed, controlled.

Completely free of thought, Carlisle was working on pure instinct. And while for all the world, he thought he was about to hit Jasper, his fists weren't the only way he could get his point across.

Still, when he looked back at the moment in retrospect, he never understood what he did next.

He kissed Jasper.

Hard.

Dominating.

Unrelenting.

He heard the younger man's cry of surprise as he smashed their lips together, felt how Jasper's tense body went slack, and yet he still didn't stop.

It wasn't just their lips. Carlisle was using his body to hold Jasper pinned and helpless beneath him. Even if the other man was fighting, he wouldn't have let him up.

The message was clear. There was only one alpha male here, and it wasn't Jasper.

It was only when he had no breath left that Carlisle raised his head, breaking the kiss.

Jasper's eyes were wide, startled, the look in them chaotic. He was breathing hard, but so was Carlisle. Neither of them seemed to be able to move.

As seconds crawled by and Carlisle's rationality returned, he became increasingly aware of his position. He was matched pretty evenly in height to Jasper, and so their bodies were lined up, leg to leg, torso to torso. He didn't know how Jasper was breathing at all with his weight on his chest.

Carlisle's hands were in fists in Jasper's shirt.

He took a deep breath. "You listen to me," he said evenly. "The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is how you intend to pay me back for the bail money and any other fees you incur with this mess you've brought on yourself. Argue with me, give me trouble, and I will leave you to handle this on your own without a shred of regret. Do you understand?"

Still stricken, Jasper jerked his head in a nod.

"Good."

Carlisle let the younger man go with a final push, turning and heading up the stairs. It was probably good he began shaking as hard as he was the instant he'd released Jasper from his grip. He didn't think he'd have been able to bite back the urge to run up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him, otherwise. Instead, he took calm, measured steps, keeping his hand first on the railing and then on the wall to support himself.

Finally in his room, Carlisle closed the door and leaned back against it. He was suddenly gasping for air, his chest too tight and his thoughts reeling.

What in the ever loving hell had he done?


A/N: Ooooooooooooookay. I'm doing okay. Just a little dizzy. Not so bad. No freaking out. Yet.

Oh, it's coming. It surely is coming.

How are you all?

Many thanks to twitina for beta and barburella for cackling at my pain in the docs.